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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506719">Black me Out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberdefender/pseuds/cyberdefender'>cyberdefender</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And quitter pushes everyone away, F/F, Parental Abuse, Plural Ayanna Dumpington, Quitter and Ayanna both need help but theyre too stubborn to get it, Theyre just two plucky lesbians who need to TALK TO EACH OTHER and also go to therapy, in which i project onto the two characters i have brainrot for</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:09:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberdefender/pseuds/cyberdefender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a difference between "Plucky" and "Pretending everything is fine". Ayanna Dumpington and Wyatt Quitter both like to pretend that they're the first, and not the second.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wyatt Quitter &amp; Ayanna Dumpington, eventual wyatt quitter/ayanna dumpington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Deadlock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The "modern" events in this fic start just after Season 11</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Mascot's bottle was thick. Inflexible. It was like a cartoon, stuck in one expression like a Dilsneyland meet-and-greet. Smiley. </p>
<p>The Mascot was happy with its life. Ayanna Dumpington was not. But the Mascot shoved Ayanna way deep down. Like its feet, maybe. Her father asked Ayanna to be here, but it was okay if the Mascot took her place, right? It thought so, anyway. And her father didn't mind.</p>
<p>It could talk and it could wave. It could also walk, kind of, but it couldn't bend its elbows and knees. "This is what is possible with Tsukao engineering!" says the man on stage, who looks like Ayanna's father, but isn't. This man is like it, the Mascot thought. A different person on the stage. The blaring lights, the numbers being yelled. Nobody held up numbers for the Mascot. They never did. It's just water, after all. </p>
<p>From its cap to its toes, just water, in a bottle. The bottle was the Mascot, too, of course, but it was just plastic, like how humans are skin and organs. And more. Ayanna didn't have a more. it was part of organs, she thought. </p>
<p>Uh oh. Ayanna is coming back. The Mascot tells her to go back to its toes. Ayanna tells it to buzz off. </p>
<p>In the end, Ayanna didn't want to face the man her father became at auctions, so the Mascot won, even if it didn't understand what an auction was. It just smiled and waved, like Father taught it to. </p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Ayanna couldn't remember the auction. A vague sense of not being wanted. Just a flash, really. She was back in a more expressive, flexible bottle, so she frowned at her father, Dr. Shimojima, who was driving her back to R&amp;D in Yokohama. It felt good to frown. Father wasn't looking, or else he might've yelled. "Why do you keep trying to sell me? I thought I was a 'Valuable asset' or something. A marketing tool."</p>
<p>He gripped the wheel of the company truck so hard his tendons popped out. That was not a good question.</p>
<p>"You are a new kind of water. You're a mascot so people can see how well you're trained. Right?" </p>
<p>Ah. </p>
<p>He wasn't her father yet. Just the man he became on the stage. Asking questions did that to him, sometimes. </p>
<p>"Right," said the Mascot. And it smiled, because that's what it was supposed to do. </p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Her first season in the ILB was over. Ayanna hadn't needed the Mascot in years. It still came out, sometimes, but only to experience life. Never to defend. </p>
<p>Stijn and the others just thought something was wrong with her. Maybe there was? she didn't know. </p>
<p>Joining the ILB was weird, cuz now there was the Blaseball Player. Someone who could play Blaseball well. Someone who could watch someone die, if needed. Like the Mascot, but for blaseball instead of auctions. The Player was serious. Hardened. She took the auctions away from the Mascot, and Father from Ayanna. Which wasn't fair. Dr. Shimojima wasn't bad, he just became a different man sometimes. Like Ayanna. He did what he had to do to survive.</p>
<p>At least, that's what she told herself.</p>
<p>But games were off now. it was Siesta. She had time to relax. To be Ayanna. So she did. She was Ayanna. And so she ate breakfast with Coolname and Grollis.</p>
<p>"New bottle, Ayanna?" asked Coolname, spreading butter on a piece of toast. It incinerated to eat, she didn't know why it bothered spreading the butter. Maybe it just helped the former umpire feel more mortal. </p>
<p>"Uh… Yeah! I got it in yesterday from this plastic processing plant in Osaka. Had to send them a custom mold and everything." She didn't know why she ate either. Food just disappeared when she put it in her mouth. It tasted good, but she didn't need it. </p>
<p>Grollis burped. Coolname breathed a little fire on its toast, slowly, savoring the taste. Ayanna kept her eyes on her plate of egg rice, shuffling her feet. </p>
<p>"So. Grollis. Been to the Pit recently?"</p>
<p>Zie nodded. "Yeah, 'S nice to have time off to make the trip. Been meaning to get down there all season, missed the playoffs cuz of it."</p>
<p>"And you remember to pack water? You know what that spring does to people."</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah." Zie waved her concerns off, but Ayanna could see that Zie was smiling. </p>
<p><em> You should ask to go </em> , said the Mascot. <em> Then we can all be friends, right? </em></p>
<p><em> I'm fine. It's kind of intense down there, </em>Ayanna responded.</p>
<p><em> Oh. Okay. </em> </p>
<p>"-Quitter?" asked Grollis. </p>
<p>Ayanna did her best impression of the Mascot. "Sorry, what?"</p>
<p>"Quitter. Have you seen her?"</p>
<p>"I think they might be working themself to the bone again."</p>
<p>"At the gym?" </p>
<p>"Batting cage."</p>
<p>Ayanna stood. "Little early for that, don't you think?"</p>
<p>"I mean, yeah. that's why I'm worried. Bring em their breakfast, will you?"</p>
<p>"On it!" She smiled. Genuinely, this time. Then she went off to find Quitter.</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Wyatt Quitter's year has been fucking awful. This time last year, they were fighting the Hall Stars, feeling the thrill of power. They weren't <em> great </em> at blaseball, but not for lack of trying. But she wasn't bitter about it. She just… missed the feeling. The crack of bat on ball was enough, for now. Maybe.</p>
<p>The batting cage was empty except for her. They were glad for it. Just them and the squarish, slate-grey pitching machine. They wanted to break a bat on one of the balls, but the strength to do that had long-since passed. </p>
<p>Evil strength. From the peanut.</p>
<p>But more strength than Quitter's ever had. Strength that they were working themself to death to get again.</p>
<p>"Strike, swinging." says a gravelly voice from the door. </p>
<p>Quitter barely spared a look to the olm-like amalgamation of concrete and rebar and <em> flesh </em>, but even that was enough to get beaned in the boob by the machine's errant next pitch. "Ow. How'd you find me, Mandy? I asked the tower to leave me alone."</p>
<p>Concrete Mandible smiled a toothy, so toothy, so very very toothy grin, its long head practically hanging off of its neck like Sexton's. Or a normal horse, they guess. It was gently curved, almost squared off, which let its eyeless stare be undercut by the aggressively Lift-themed graffiti that they wore instead of a face. They made Quitter feel… Dull. </p>
<p>They were also talking. Crap.</p>
<p>"Uh. Sorry. Something something breakfast?"</p>
<p>"Someone's bringing it to you, so tell the tower to unhide you."</p>
<p>"That doesn't tell me how you found me in the first place."</p>
<p>It grinned that toothy smile again. And left.</p>
<p>Well. If they're going to <em> make </em> her take care of herself…</p>
<p>"Hey, it's me again," they said out loud. The walls rippled their response. "Can you do what Concrete said? Just like… Send Ayanna in."</p>
<p><em> Only her? </em> The Legscraper asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah, just like, make it a straight shot for her only."</p>
<p><em> I'll try. </em> </p>
<p>A few minutes later, Quitter was sitting down with a plate of egg rice, delivered with a smile by Ayanna. The room grew a table as soon as they needed it, and they ate standing, the concrete walls and tiled floor not particularly appetizing.</p>
<p>Ayanna, though, had stuck around, and Quitter couldn't figure out why. She sat in a chair a few feet away, also grown out of the tiled floor, but with a leather cushion, seemingly grown from blaseball skin, stitches and everything.</p>
<p>"How is it," Ayanna asked, crossing and uncrossing her legs nervously.</p>
<p>"Dunno. How do you sit on that. 'S gotta be hard as hell," they say between bites.</p>
<p>"Dunno."</p>
<p>After a few minutes of not talking, Quitter felt… weird. So they put the plate down, breakfast half-finished, and picked her bat back up. "Why do you care, anyway? I know you didn't make it." They wince. "Sorry, that was rude."</p>
<p>The <em> crack </em> of ball on wood, but it hit the fence. Foul.</p>
<p>"I just wanted to know," Ayanna says tensely. "You don't have to ask why someone cares every time."</p>
<p>The rattle on the metal of the fence around the plate. Strike, looking.</p>
<p>"Well, I just wanted to know, okay? 'S not like people cared about me on my last team!"</p>
<p>Strike, swinging. </p>
<p>"You know for a fact that isn't true. Look me in the eyes and tell me that the Tacos weren't your family."</p>
<p>They stop and look. Ayanna's… angry. Another bean from the machine. They turn their head back. They hit the next ball.</p>
<p>"Wasn't talkin' 'bout the Tacos."</p>
<p>Another Strike. Looking. </p>
<p>Ayanna doesn't seem to know what to make of this. She stands. Strike, looking.</p>
<p>"You can't just use the PODs as a gotcha every time, Quitter," she finally says. "It was awful for you, I know, but we can… we can help. If not us, we can find someone. A therapist, maybe. Or find another POD to talk to. Someone."</p>
<p>She turned and left. </p>
<p>Strike, swinging.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Beach Episode</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gerund pulls Ayanna and Quitter out, with friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>God, how could she be so stupid?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wyatt Quitter keeps pushing everyone that cares about them. They spent season 11 ignoring calls from home, and shrugging off attempts to talk to them from the Lift. She put on a strong face, though, laughing and smiling just enough to keep their team from worrying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then the season ended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They couldn't keep themself going after the season ended. It was too long without pushing herself, too long without adrenaline. During playoffs, at least, they could watch, but without games, their momentum died. A day or two in the batting cage, then moping in their room. Not answering texts, only getting up to piss and eat the food left at their door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, they're pathetic. Stupid team and their stupid dedication to making sure she eats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A week in, Gerund pulled her out from the hole they let themselves slide into. They threw open the door, breakfast in hand, already dressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're going to the beach," they said. "You're coming too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" Quitter squinted at the light. The windows on their rooms didn't exist anymore, paint still dripping from the Legscraper's hasty coverings. They spent most of the day in the dark now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You, me, Yusef, Ayanna, Seraph. We're going to the beach to do a sand castle contest." Gerund sounded… Stern. Not hands on hips stern, just kind of… forceful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." Quitter rolled over on their bed, checking her phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. We're gonna embarrass those dorks with our badass sand castling."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cuz. Now come on."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So then they were at the beach under an umbrella. She didn't want to be there. But she didn't… not want to be there. So she stayed. Better than the dark, they guessed. Even if Gerund and Seraph were doing all of the real work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nobody was really… dressed for the beach. Seraph didn't need clothes, obviously, but it made them extremely hot to the touch. Gerund wore her trademark (and conveniently team branded) black and hot pink, along with two of her three swords, since the third couldn't stand the sun. Yusef, who was laying in the sand near her, was probably the closest in a Yellowstone tank top and shorts, but even he was wearing a tight binder, not really… activewear. Ayanna, meanwhile, was in her speedboat print pajamas and sandles made out of corkwood, like coasters, with ice and some food coloring in her to accentuate what could generously be called a "look". She looked tired and sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhausted</span>
  </em>
  <span>, leaning against a lifeguard perch nearby. As far as Quitter could tell, Ayanna was pulled directly out of bed by Gerund, same as them, but after a much rougher night. Something about speedrunning? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Same as always, then. Ayanna pushing herself to be her best. Not giving in, like them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While they were feeling sorry for themself, a quiet, resonant voice appeared first in their mind, then in her ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What're you up to these days, Wyatt?" asked Yusef. Polite as ever, except for using their first name in a situation that didn't exactly warrant it. Too familiar, or something. Japanese was weird. Yusef </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> used first names, though, which meshed well with his weird, laid back intensity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh. Pretending to cope, mostly."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Damn. That's crazy. You alright?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, uh. Think I just needed to get some sunlight. touch some grass."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know this guy downtown. Specializes in 'ball players. Could get you to him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Therapy, Wyatt. Could pay for it myself, Nandy's got me on an allowance."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. What? No. I don't need therapy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Aight. You know your limits better'n I do. Just keep the offer in mind, in case the cage doesn't work out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quitter wanted to tell Fenestrate that they weren't friends. They'd barely talked, honestly. They wanted to kick and scream and storm off. But instead they found themself nodding. "Sure, dude. Yeah."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Ayanna was about to pass out. She was up all night going for a personal best in her favorite platformer, and did not expect to have to… </span>
  <em>
    <span>exist</span>
  </em>
  <span>… for another few hours. Why was she here? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dumb emo kid and her dumb beach trip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Player didn't need this. she was gonna go home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, Ayanna didn't need this. Right? Yeah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Player had half a mind to tell Gerund to fuck off and let them go home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ayanna would've agreed, except that she was ignoring the Player. Piloting the body as usual, but not talking to her. Which was fine. She needed this. She didn't get a lot of time last season. So the Player's words bloomed in her mind like a dye, instead of dropping into her like an ice cube.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Talk to her," she said out loud, entirely by accident. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>We shouldn’t’ve done that, you idiot,</span>
  </em>
  <span> said Ayanna</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" asked Quitter, sitting under an umbrella, looking like garbage.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well it worked,</span>
  </em>
  <span> pointed out the Player. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And you know for a fact we didn’t mean to.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The Player wants me to talk to you," Ayanna mumbled. "Just to break the silence."</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can you </span>
  </em>
  <span>be</span>
  <em>
    <span> more awkward, Ayanna?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Asked the Player. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rhetorical. Just pay attention</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh. Alright. What do you wanna talk about, then?" They looked uncomfortable, but they weren't pushing her away. which was good. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah. Just keep going like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, said the Player.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well… Do you wanna just… go? Not home, but not here, cuz here sucks."</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you want me to pay attention or-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, aight. Let's do it." Quitter stood.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>What?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What? Really?" Ayanna felt… energized. Hanging around Wyatt did that to people, she guessed.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re gay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, said the Player.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah." They didn't sound enthused, but she was brushing the sand from her outfit and fishing a piece of cloth out of the sand. "We just gonna go for coffee like this, then?"</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Quiet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, said the Mascot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t fight</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Coffee?" Ayanna's non-existant heart pounded. Why coffee? The Player settled down, smirking internally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. If we aren't going home, you're getting caffeine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine. I'm not even yawning or anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can't yawn. You don't have lungs."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Point." She grinned. She felt silly. "But sleep would really be better, right? I know I said not home, but-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The short woman gripped her arm, looking Ayanna in the eyes, pleading. "Not home. I just left. Don't think I can face the cage again."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Understood. So, coffee?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Coffee.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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